


Stockroom

by zombified_queer



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Threesome - M/M/M, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 09:23:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16616282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombified_queer/pseuds/zombified_queer
Summary: Weyoun wanders off. Dukat goes to look for him.





	Stockroom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CastellanGarak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastellanGarak/gifts).



Dukat had to admit he didn't think a Vorta could be so hard to keep track of. But Weyoun had a way of wandering off, disappearing for long stretches of time. Usually, he'd be playing dabo (and despite how the Ferengi rigged the wheel, the Vorta always came out ahead of the house), but he's not in Quark's. 

Something draws him to Garak's. Perhaps it's the empty nature of the tailor's shop. Scenting the air, Dukat catches the taste of Vorta. Recent. Coming from the back room.

Testing the door, Dukat finds it unlocked, leading to a room piled with fabrics. There's a high, shrill cry, one Dukat knows is Weyoun. Stepping deeper into the back room, Dukat finds the Vorta sprawled out on the table, thighs apart. Garak's fucking him, hissing softly. 

For a moment, Dukat's confused. He loathes the Vorta except when it's convenient to use him to warm his bed. And he hates Garak with a hard passion. But the sight of the two of them together builds a slow, insistent pressure, the need to evert.

"Weyoun?"

Garak and Weyoun both look up. They don't stop fucking, Garak making a show of leaving lovebites on Weyoun's neck, the Vorta groaning. Playfully, Weyoun pushes Garak's face away from his throat. 

"I think I can do something for you too," Weyoun admits, arching his back. "I know you love my mouth, Dukat."

Dukat steps closer, Weyoun's hands unfastening Dukat's trousers. The tip of the Cardassian's cock pushes past his scaled slit. Weyoun puts his mouth over Dukat's seam, tongue running over that exposed tip. The suction and the tongue helps Dukat evert quicker, his length forcing itself out, down the Vorta's throat.

The lack of gag reflex always frightens Dukat. It's like the Founders designed their diplomats to be used for sex.

Violet eyes stare up at Dukat. The Cardassian can't help himself, rocking his hips. Weyoun's mouth is perfect: warm and wet, sucking just right along each ridge and curve of the Cardassian's cock.

"He's a delight," Garak purrs, claws running lightly over the Vorta's slender abdomen. "A cunning linguist, intelligent conversation, a touch of debate."

Weyoun purrs around the organ in his mouth at the praise. He rolls his hips to meet Garak's thrusts, trying to milk more praise out of the Cardassian.

"So sturdy. Truly, a wonderful little pet," Garak rumbles.

Weyoun moans again. He puts more effort into polishing Dukat's cock, taking him to the base, saliva and lubricant running over his chin.

"But a greedy thing," Dukat says, wiping Weyoun's face clean. 

Weyoun looks up, begging.

"I'll treat you," Dukat purrs, grabbing the Vorta by the hair. "Something good to eat."

He cums down the Vorta's throat, head lolling back as Weyoun swallows every drop. 

Garak laughs. "You seem like you're not used to staying everted so long. Perhaps this wonderful little pet can help with that." 

Weyoun purrs, tongue working at Dukat's scaled slit. 

"Give me a minute," Dukat tells Weyoun. "And I'll give you another treat."

Weyoun replies by kisses over Dukat's chuva, his slit, worshipping the Cardassian's sex.


End file.
